Tears Of A Dying Sunflower

A New Chance

"If she comes back, would you love her again?" A piercing question suddenly whispered in my ears from behind as I gazed blankly at the stars.

"Oh, it's you." I uttered, turning my head towards the direction of the voice.

She slowly took a step closer as the moonlight streaks gently unveiled her skin, stepping outside the shadow of the old oak tree that cloaked her.

"Would you write for her again?" She uttered.

I kept myself silent as she sat beside me and viewed the purple night sky alongside.

"It's late. You should be sleeping already." I replied, trying to avoid her question.

"I wanted to gaze at the stars. They seem to be more visible tonight." She stated.

Then her eyes shifted towards me. The grassy field around us glossed by the tiny droplets as she grabbed the notebook lying beside my lap.

"You still haven't answered my question." She uttered again.

I stayed silent for a while. As her fingers flipped through the pages of the notebook, I replied.

"I'm still writing about her. It's just that no matter how hard I try, I just can't stop thinking about her. I keep getting blinded by the hope that someday, she'll come back. Someday, she'll learn to love me again."

"For how long?" She kept her eyes on the notebook as she said the words.

"Two years." I said, as I started to grasp the pain once again. The pain I felt when she said goodbye, when she said she was tired of it all.

"And now all your pages contained are the tragedy you faced. Ever since then, I barely saw you smile for those past years." She uttered, closing the notebook and then staring at me.

"Don't you think it's time already?" She asked.

"Time for what?" I replied, keeping my eyes to the stars. But the words she said next left me dumbfounded.

"Time to stop writing about her." She responded.

I stopped gazing at the stars and I shifted my eyes towards her. What does she mean? Ever since I started, she's been the reason why I have been writing. She was everything to me. How could I possibly let go of someone who gave me something to hold on? I couldn't say a word. I listened as she continued.

"Through all the unfolded pages you've filled, the papers you've crumbled, and the tears you've shed. I think it's time to refill the ink inside you. I think it's time to write for someone really deserves you, write for the one who truly loves you." She continued.

I started to catch the butterfly in her words, the feelings she wanted to convey, and the reason for the words she uttered. I already knew what she meant, but I couldn't find the words to answer.

She's right. I kept writing for the girl who only gave me nothing but pain. The stories that I've written with my own ink are only all about the tragedy I gained. She wasn't meant for me, and I wasn't meant for her. My gaze became locked on the lady beside me as I lay speechless, unable to speak.

"It's time to stop writing about her tragedy. Open a new chapter and start filling it with beauty. Because there's someone out there who has been always reading your poems, and your stories. Someone who always wanted to be a part of your poetry, someone who wanted to set you free from your cursed tragedy." I already knew what she meant. She stood up, and traversed a few steps forward. Giving one more glimpse at me as the stars danced beautifully in the night sky.

"I think it's time for you to give her a chance."